


being earnest

by arthur_pendragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Besotted Arthur Pendragon, Canon Era, Dirty Talk, Drabble, M/M, Morning After, Nipple Play, POV Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 06:21:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17823521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arthur_pendragon/pseuds/arthur_pendragon
Summary: In which a smitten Arthur decidedly fails to resist Merlin's "wiles".





	being earnest

Arthur realises he’s fucked when Merlin smiles and flattens his hand on Arthur’s shoulder, thumb over his pulse, something he’s never done before this morning. This part of their morning ritual is now irreversibly tainted and it’s all Merlin’s fault.

Merlin’s smile broadens when Arthur swallows. “I can feel your heart,” he says, “beating.”

“It’s been known to do that on occasion,” Arthur says, sounding exactly like one would were their mouth parched, but of course Arthur’s would never dare to be anything but perfectly…wet?

“You don’t have to make it weird, you know.”

“I’m doing nothing of the sort. You’re the one making eyes — hands — at me when you really ought to be doing your job. I’ve got council to attend in a quarter of a candle-mark and then the new squires to train and here you are, being all —” Arthur inhales sharply as Merlin leans in to drop a kiss on Arthur’s collarbone, so close to his own wrist.

“You know I don’t regret it, right?”

Arthur blinks. “What?”

“Last night.”

“I — you —”

“I loved it.” Merlin runs his fingers down Arthur’s body, smoothing an imaginary doublet. Arthur shivers despite himself; Merlin’s fingertips are cool, especially when they pass over his nipples, fuck. It costs him every bit of his princely restraint to not flinch. “I loved every second of it.”

 _It_ being them bringing each other off in Arthur’s bed the previous night, Merlin writhing under Arthur, begging for what Arthur amply provided.

“I am quite relieved to hear that.”

“Do you like it when I touch you like that?” Merlin whispers, eyes stuck to Arthur’s chest, flicking his fingernails against — fuck.

Arthur does not respond. He doesn’t have it in him to admit whatever weakness this is, and Merlin hadn’t needed to ask to know, anyway.

“Would you let me suck on them?”

“What?” (Arthur might be saying this too often for his own good.)

“Suck on them,” Merlin repeats. “Lick them, catch them between my teeth and pull, dig my nails into them —”

“ _Gods_ , Merlin.”

“You’ve so _very_ pretty nipples.”

“Thank you,” Arthur chokes out. It sounds like a question, the way he says it. Are they supposed to be pretty? Isn’t Merlin better off saying this to a maiden (well, not quite) he’s got his eye on? Oh, God, has Merlin got a maiden (not quite) he likes? Is Arthur’s heart about to be broken in the near future?

“You’re so fucking pretty. Every inch of you is pretty.” The hoarse quality to Merlin’s voice is strangely like the scarf brushing against Arthur’s sternum. Arthur can’t even look down to confirm anymore, since Merlin’s hair is in the way and any movement from him at this stage is tantamount to surrender.

“As are you.”

“I want to suck your cock, Arthur.” Merlin’s fingers do not leave Arthur’s embonpoint. Arthur doesn’t want to call his chest an embonpoint, but given the way Merlin seems to be _fondling_ him right now, perhaps it befits him, after all.

“Thank you for your directness.”

“May I?”

“Right now?” Arthur asks, waveringly. He ought to be scandalised, his servant is a randy thing showcasing his neediness by plucking at Arthur’s very-much-sensitive nipples, but he is so uncomfortably hard in his breeches that the council meeting is nigh and _yet_ he’s considering shoving Merlin to his knees like Merlin wants.

“Yeah,” Merlin breathes, still fixated upon those nubs.

Arthur might return the favour very soon, see what music he can make with Merlin’s body should Merlin express such a desire to him. “What about the council meeting?” he asks, though he knows it’s but a perfunctory argument. The decision’s been made for him by his foolish heart.

Merlin finally looks up, not moving his head, gazing at him through unnecessarily-seductive lashes. Arthur capitulates, catching Merlin’s hair in a hand and tugging, meeting him halfway.

“Father’ll send you to the stocks for this,” he says against Merlin’s mouth, and the laugh he gets in return is enough to show what Merlin thinks of _that_.


End file.
